


The Mage Lord

by theCelticMyst



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Bad Smut Bonanza, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theCelticMyst/pseuds/theCelticMyst
Summary: This is for a Bad Smut event on the Dragon Age Fan Fiction Facebook page, the second such event.  It is SUPPOSED to be bad.  Anything not over the top or cringe worthy was unintentional.  Again, this is intentionally bad, but it was fun to write.





	The Mage Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this is for a bad smut event. You have been warned.

The hot, sultry wind blew across Nessum, Nevarra, as Aphrodite Venus Hawke rode into town on her magnificent stallion, Allurcus. She fidgeted in her saddle as she guided her mighty stallion between the beautiful delights created by the city’s architects. The skirt of her crimson dress slithered sensuously as she moved in the saddle and her long raven hair danced in the wind. She fidgeted again as her long neglected need needled at her, she had not felt… satisfied for two years, not since she had last seen him.

She had tried to forget the man who had not only been the love of her life, but the best lay of her existence. He had left her after the incidents in Kirkwall, claiming that he now brought too much danger to her. He had left a hole in her that could never be filled. Not only was her heart broken, she hadn’t been truly fulfilled in bed in too long. She had tried to do the job herself, but it wasn’t the same; she couldn’t reach the same heights.

Then she had turned to others, although her heart belonged to him, but she hadn’t been able to find true satisfaction at the hands, or phalli, of others either. She had tried while in Skyhold. She had let The Iron Bull spread her well-muscled, yet not too thick, thighs with his large, manly hands in the hay over the stables, where Blackwall usually slept. Then he had pierced her with his horn of plenty. She had heard of his skill and he did seem to know how to use the Iron Horn well as it laid siege to her feminine fortress. Alas, no matter how his magnificent manly meat sack maneuvered her womanly passage, it could not quelch her or skyrocket her to the release she had lacked for two long, dreary years.

When Blackwall had found them near his bedroll, tumbling in the hay, he had acted shocked at first. However, when she and Iron Bull had invited him to join them, and Iron Bull explained that he couldn’t hold on for her much longer, he had valiantly tried to help. He had thrown off his armor and exposed his candy stick for her. Gripping her curvaceous hips, he’d eased his shaft of delight between her tight round buttocks and slowly tried to conquer her as well. But it was all for naught. She’d been left feeling unfulfilled while the two men lay blissful among the straw, satiated.

She was now on her way to Weisshaupt to talk to the Wardens about what had happened to their brethren in Orlais.  _He_ was technically a Grey Warden and she wondered if they could help her find where her lost love had gone to.  She told herself that she just wanted to make sure he was all right.

“Excuse me, beauteous woman,” a medium tall man with waves of tannish red-blonde hair stepped in front of her horse.  His crisp, white shirt was open to reveal impressive pecs and manly chest hair.

She pulled Allurcus to a stop.  “What is it, villager?”

“Nessum is no longer safe for the innocent, unwary traveler,” he announced.  “I would not want to see one as lovely as you harmed.  When the mage-Templar war started in the south, the Mage Lord came to our town with other mages.  They have taken over and now rule from yonder manor house, he indicated a columned, white and gold estate.  They have banished all dogs from the city and we are forced to leave tuna and milk out every day.  They have also slain three Templars who came into town.  We are waiting for a hero, a hero who will rescue us poor town’s folk.  You are two bonny to risk, though.  You must get to safety.”

“It’s all right,” she reached under her saddle and pulled out her staff.  It was long and twisted wickedly.  Her hair began whipping even more vigorously in the wind as she held it aloft and her sapphire blue eyes flashed with righteous fury.  “I, too, am a mage and have fought many battles against evil.  This Mage Lord will not stand against me.”

“Oh, my lady,” he fell to his knees, clutching her shapely leg.  “You are too good to us poor townsfolk.  I hope that none of your perfection is marred against this brute.”

Aphrodite rode to the manor house.  She slid sensuously off Allercus when she reached the gates.  She easily opened the gate and was only granted by a tiny tabby that mewed adorably at her.  “Oh, aren’t you precious,” she gathered the little feline into her arms.  I will rescue you once I have taken care of the evil sorcerer who lives here.”  The diminutive cat meowed at her again, assuring her that he like where he was.  She set him down and proceeded into the manor.  She was then greeted by an unarmed man in dark blue, blue like the sky before twilight, not like a blueberry, mage robes.

“Greetings fellow mage, the Lord will be pleased that we have brought another of our kind safely under the fold,” he bowed.

“I’m here to stop him from further persecuting the people of Nessum,” she announced.  “I do not need protection.”

“Of course not,” he held out an arm.  “I will take you to him.”

“You aren’t going to fight me?” The disappointment dripped thick and warm from in her voice.

“We do not hurt our own if it can be avoided,” he led her into a splendid room.  The walls were dark brown, like chestnut, and gold.  A large mahogany desk stood in the middle, dominating the room telling all other furniture that it was their lord and king.  The other furniture was soft and plush, with amber cushions.  There were two other amber cushions laying on their own in the room, on both slept soft, gentle feline who dreamt of hunting and world conquest.  A few other mages moved about the room, conferring.  Behind the desk the Mage Lord rose.  His golden hair blowing gently about him.  His face had been carved on a day when the maker had decided to blend strength with perfection.  His amber eyes reflected prowess and power.  He was dressed in black, like the finest onyx.  He carried a large, impressive staff that was straight and proud, leaving other mage’s staffs in envy.  He looked Aphrodite up and down and then down and up.  “Dite, it has been too long.”

It was _him_ , the love she hadn’t seen in two long.  Her ample bosoms heaved as she gazed on him, as if trying to memorize his handsome face in case she was forced to leave his side again.  “Anders.”

“She says she came to stop you,” the mage who had brought her to her long lost love informed him.

“My heart stops whenever she isn’t around,” Anders revealed.  “She hasn’t stopped me, she has restarted me,” he walked around the desk and stood before her.

“If that were true, then why did you leave me?”  A single tear of perfection rolled gently down her porcelain face as she gazed at him.

He reached out and caught the tear on his index finger.  He brought it to his lips, tasting its salty sweetness.  “I thought it for your own good.  You are too wild and untamed to be on the run with a wanted apostate.  I could not keep you in good conscience and had to set my perfect goddess free so others could still worship her.”

“No one has been able to worship me like you,” her bosoms heaved again at her declaration, straining against her low decollage. 

“You have let others touch you?” he grabbed her waist and yanked her against him, she could feel his mage’s staff poking into her delicate belly button and she was thankful that she wasn’t wearing smalls, for they would have been soaked just from the sensation of being up against him again.”

“They have tried, but I have been bereft for two long years,” her lower lip quivered.  “I have tried to move on, but can not from you.  You are all any woman could ever want.  You’re evil now, though.  You are tormenting villagers, I should… resist you.”

“You don’t want to, though,” he stroked her jaw and then neck.  Then his finger slid down further, leaving a streak of warmth in its wake.  The finger dipped between her impressive breasts and found her sensitive spots.  “You want what I am going to do to you,” he backed her up to the desk and brought his mouth down on her full luscious lips.

She opened her succulent mouth so his thick, warm tongue could slide in and stroke her own.  Their tongues slid hedonistically against each other as she pulled him even closer, rubbing her body against his.  He was right; she wanted everything he was going to do to her and more.

Anders used a telekinetic burst to cause the contents of his desk to go flying as his hand wondered to the rose laces on Dite’s crimson dress.  He slowly, methodically undid those laces all the time continuing to plunder the delicious depths of her mouth.

“Um, sir?  Should we leave you two alone?” One of the other mages in the room asked.

He didn’t care what they did.  He only cared that _she_ was back in his arms and would soon be writhing under him again.  He pushed the dress down her shoulders and arms.  It caught on her exquisite hips.   Dragging his lips from hers, he rained golden kisses down her throat until he could capture the tip of her perfect mounds in his mouth, his other hand came up to message the other precious peak as she cried out her bliss.

Just having his hands and mouth on her had brought her to highs she had not experienced in years.  “Oh, Anders, only you are so many and perfect to know what I need.  Only you can love me the way I need to be loved.”

“I know, Dite, my perfect goddess,” he declared.  “You are now mine and I shall never let you go again.”  He pushed her dress the rest of the way down and sat her on his desk, blessing it with her rounded glutes.  Then he stripped off his robes, revealing a chiseled torso that would make a master carver’s statues weep in envy.  His boots disappeared with magic, leaving him only in leather trousers, where his might trebuchet strained, threatening to vault the leather away as well.  He ran his hands along her shapely legs and then parted her dimpled thighs to reveal her onto him.  He knelt before her in devotion.  Then he leaned forward and kissed the entrance to her Andrastian Chalice.  He let his tongue slide in as it flicked along her petals, like a butterflies wings caressing the delicate pronds of the plant that gave it sustenance. 

Cries filled the air as Aphrodite praised the Maker and Andraste for bringing her back to Ander’s side.  She cried more purely and magnificently as she finally came after two years of bleakness.  Her echoes of joy and wonder caused all who heard to weep in joy as well.    “Oh, Anders, my magnificent Man,” she cried when he lid two fingers into her holy chalice as well, causing her to soar even higher.

Anders reluctantly stepped away from his love and she collapsed back onto the desk, her snowy peaks of brilliance heaving as she caught her breath.  He softly touched her cheek and turned her head so she could see him slowly strip from his trouser, his sword of love springing free.  “It’s missed you as much as I have, love.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she reached out and stroked it.  “I missed it too, oh so much.  Sheath it back into me where it belongs, my dearest.”

He kissed her and then climbed up on the desk with her.  She parted her woman’s gate so her love goblet was open for him to partake of again.  He slowly pierced her with his wondrous man staff, as she began to cry out again.  He pulled out a little and then thrust in again so his golden spear could pierce her perfect spot, knowing only he was born to know exactly what she liked and where to touch.  Again and again he moved in and out of her velvety sheath with his love sword bringing her again and again.  He only allowed himself his own completion after she had orgasmed for the tenth time.  Then he strained his mighty neck as his seeds of lust and love spilled into her magical vessel of amore, filling her completely and combining with her rivers to flow in perfection.

When he was done, he moved so she was cradled perfectly on top of him.  Around them, other mages knelt, heads bent as they had witnessed carnal perfection that they could only pray to one day know for themselves.  “My people,” he raised a hand off of the desk.  “This is the love of my life, Aphrodite Venus Hawke.  She shall be your Lady Master at my side forever.  The child that we have conceived in our perfect love, shall continue to protect our people and ensure the Templars will never rise against us.”  He laid his hand on his love’s back as their people cheered.  Even the Wardens from Weisshaupt came to them instead of Aphrodite having to ride to them for they had heard her cries of release and followed the sound.  They had s

Indeed, nine and a half months later a new protector of mages was born, conceived in the perfect union of its parent’s reunion.  Andraste herself blessed the event and all Templars lived in fear of the Mage Lord and his Lady. 


End file.
